The Gift
by Black.Kuma
Summary: Eternal life causes years to be meaningless, days to be fruitless and minutes to be mere drops in an ocean of time. A young vampiress on one of the most pointless days in her lifetime receives something she truly needed whether that something likes her or not.
1. Happy Birthday

The Gift

[ Disclaimer: I do not own TESV ]

Chapter 1 – Happy Birthday

* * *

"If freedom is a birthright, why did the Divines let us create the Oblivion called war?"

-Braeygr Windseeker, A Breeze of Memories

* * *

**First Era**

In the dead of night, Castle Volkhair's main gate screeched open with resistance and wear as two muscled granite gargoyles dragged in a hefty occupied metal cage. A thick cloth had been draped over the top, so the captured creature inside could not tell where it passed or where it was heading.

On the confines' interior, magical ice and lightning runes covered the bars, deterring whatever resided inside from even fathoming an escape. Following the gargoyles, a tall Nordic vampire slinked behind their quarry, donning a sharp frown. He gripped a heavy leather studded whip in his clenched pale hand while the other lingered anxiously on his blade's hilt. _Not taking any damn chances…_

"Lord Harkon better reward me greatly, or I swear by the blood…" The undead nightwalker muttered under his frostbitten breath as the small party neared the castle's entrance hall.

* * *

"Explain to me again why you ordered Orthjolf, four full-blooded vampires, ten armored thralls and three gargoyle brutes to the southwest forests near Falkreath on the whispers of some rumors?" Lady Valerica berated at the head of the table next to her husband. Her brows narrowed tightly with discontent while the vampire lord raised a goblet of wine to his lips in order to keep her waiting just a bit longer.

From the balcony behind them, Serana counted mentally and drummed her pale fingers against the ancient stone banister.

_Five._

_Four ._

_Three_.

Releasing a relaxed sigh from fanged lips, Harkon lowered his goblet slowly.

Valerica's patience teetered on a very thin string.

_Two ._

_One. _

"Because my dear, three weeks ago, a vampire hunter managed to navigate his way to the island, scaled the castle's second tallest wall, hid in _your _garden and almost pierced a silver arrow through our _only _daughter's heart. If Vingalmo hadn't been there to dispatch the intruder, we wouldn't be having this conversation, now would we?" The ancient lord finished his explanation and brought his drink back to his mouth once more.

_Dispatched him? I broke the fool's arm before Vingalmo raised his withered hand to cast a spell_. Serana bit her tongue for not reporting her side of the incident immediately and instead letting Vingalmo take care of the mess.

Hopefully, Harkon's response satisfied his partner…

Valerica crossed her arms along her chest and tapped her index finger in the crook of her arm. "Yet you react by sending one of our head advisers and his top detail to the farthest edges of Skyrim after our daughter's life was threatened. You lowered our defenses for what, Harkon?"

Harkon's responses never satisfied his partner.

"You shall see, my dear _patient_ wife. You shall see." He responded lightly.

The undead lord took his gaze off his lovely wife and watched as some thralls began carting in food. Fresh Altmer that lost their way to Solitude seemed to be the evening's main dish. A few servants balanced on top of ladders, hanging bloodied banners and replacing low candles with fresh scarlet variants molded all the way in Morrowind. Vingalmo directed his set of workers to spread the scent of Valenwood wild flowers across the great hall.

Serana grimaced at the preparation and pandering that cluttered the room.

"Don't you think celebrating a name day is pointless for a vampire?" She suggested from above, gaining her parents' attention.

Fura set down a bouquet of fresh black roses imported all the way from Cyrodiil into a nearby vase. She sniffed a few of the beautiful plants then motioned for some of the workers to bring more.

"Serana, for you nothing is pointless, and a change pace is needed after the incident." Her father retorted earnestly and beckoned for a servant to refill his goblet.

"Besides, some wish to maintain frivolous appearances and delusional control." Valerica mouthed silently to her daughter.

Serana chuckled under her breath, exciting a question from her father.

Before he could ask, the main entrance doors swung open with the fury of a god. Startled and curious, all eyes followed the large lumbering cage moving forward and Orthjolf trailing not too far behind it. The gargoyles carefully lugged their quarry into the dining hall's center between the two long side tables.

"Ah, you've returned, and I see your hunt was successful. But I believe I sent you with at least twice these numbers." Harkon didn't bother counting how many actually returned with the Nordic vampire while Orthjolf tried rubbing some fresh blood off his cloak to make himself more presentable to his master.

"M'lord, only I and two of our brutes made it back. The prey proved to be… stronger than we anticipated unfortunately." Orthjolf explained with pain on the edge of his lips and stepped forward fully into the candlelight.

Murmurs and gasps to ignited the blood-soaked air. Two broad scars marred the immortal skin under his left eye, and his lower right fang was missing.

The creature lurking could be heard pacing back and forth underneath the cloth.

Valerica flashed a raised eyebrow to her husband and stood up. "We are glad you made it back in one piece, Orthjolf, but what exactly did my short-sighted husband command you to search for? Certainly it was worth a good fifth of our forces and four weeks we could have used to search for how the hunter managed to even take one step onto our island?"

Serana, behind her parents, placed her chin on her knuckles when her father silently responded to his wife with a blood-freezing glare from the corner of his eye. She could feel a new argument begin brew…

"It certainly was, m'lady. This will prevent any further incidents and strengthen this court… if that is even possible with overflowing amount of power we already command." His smoldering eyes traced to Harkon for a moment, wondering if his tongue caused him to tread on a thin line.

A thankful sigh exited Orthjolf mouth, for Lord Harkon appeared too occupied with his wife's biting tongue to focus his fury on the advisor.

"Lord Harkon, Lady Valerica, please give me the honor of presenting the young Lady Serana her first name day gift." Ortholf requested and bow deeply. Harkon flicked his wrist forward. Other members of the court began to file in and take their seats once the advisor cleared his throat.

Vingalmo stepped forward abruptly.

"What form of honor should be bestowed upon the likes of you for chasing a myth while others have actually made themselves useful by performing Lady Valerica's wishes? _I_ have been diligently investigating our mysterious intruder and found he hails from Eastmarsh. He seems to be from a larger organization I am still unearthing." The Altmer vampire captured his audience and even managed to garner a welcoming grin from Lady Valerica.

At least someone in this castle listens to someone other than her husband.

"I've been carrying out Lord Harkon's orders unlike some pointy-eared wretch who's more suited to be a jarl's jester than a vampire. Your magic is as thin as your blood." Orthjolf spat with more venom than a frostbite spider.

"And this… _thing _is supposed to be our solution?" The Altmer seethed, letting his fangs flash at the Nord.

"Oh, do you question our lord's judgment, Vingalmo? He trusted me on this important mission, and I've undying belief in his decisions, don't you?" Orthjolf cajoled the elf to answer.

The twisted smile forming on the Nord's lips from watching his rival squirm and sweat could only match a wolf's grin after catching two elk and a wounded mammoth in the same morning. Vingalmo wasn't a fool to take chances when discussions were made about their lord's choices and actions.

Stay silent, agree and you may live another decade.

"N-No, of course not. I have complete faith in Lord Harkon. Now if you'll excuse me." Vingalmo dismissed himself and stepped to the side disgruntled.

With the floor cleared, Orthjolf let the unveiling commence. He cracked his whip at the covered cage, and let his audience listen to the aggravated growls and hissing coming from the beast inside. He unsheathed his broadsword then dragged the blade across the metal bars just to stir it up.

The other court members sunk in their chairs slightly while thralls backed up towards the walls. Content with the minor display, Ortholf took two fist-fulls of the cloth.

"Without further interruption… your gift, Lady Serana."

With some effort, Ortholf ripped the thick covering off.


	2. Your Worth

The Gift

[ Disclaimer: I do not own TESV ]

Chapter 2 – Your Worth

* * *

"To me, the fool is more valuable than the king. Someone has to embody hate yet somehow bring joy."

-Braeygr Windseeker, A Breeze of Memories

* * *

"Your glorious myth, your great gift…" Vingalmo bit back a cackle "…is a skinny little Bosmer?!" Vingalmo questioned loudly, beckoning members of the court to chortle under their breaths.

Now honestly interested, Serana's burning golden eyes traced the little wood elf siiting on its knees inside its prison. It appeared to be female from her small frame and slight curve in the chest. Wearing a worn-out shirt, trousers and foot-wrappings, the little elf barely had much meat on her to fill out the baggy clothing.

_How long has she been in this cage? _Serana wondered.

Her skin was a rich earthy brown while long wiry, blood-red hair covered her small head. She faced the cold cage floor, not allowing Serana to see her eyes.

_This was making all that noise? She looks quieter than a skeever avoiding a sabre cat_. With soundless steps, Serana moved down from the balcony behind her parents and stood next to Vingalmo in front of the cage.

"Orthjolf…" Harkon seethed. "What did you bring to my court?" He calmly questioned in an icy tone.

"Do not be fooled, m'lord. This putrid elf is a beast, just as the rumors spoke, and has complete control over its true nature. When this filth is enthralled, it will be the most adequate bodyguard for Lady Serana." Orthjolf defended himself.

Serana looked at him skeptically then turned back to the captured Bosmer. "This is your great plan, Father? She's tiny, fragile… I don't think she can even stand, Orthjolf. Maybe you should have Feran check your eyes." Serana berated.

With each degrading word, the prisoner's body shook and rocked from side to side until she stood up fully on to her feet. Her head swayed to the left and right then locked on to Serana.

_Hmm? So she can stand._

She could do a lot more than that.

Shaking the very ground upon impact, the quarry rammed her bony shoulder into the cage's bars.

The runes keeping her in line sparked and crackled with life, initiating a magical explosion. Lightning bolts followed by ice spikes flew through the room. Inside the prisoner bobbed and weaved the close range reckless magic, garnering neither a cut or scratch to her thin body. Some members of the court weren't as agile and faced a few patches of electrified skin. A spear of ice embedded itself into a death hound's side.

"And this is why magic is pointless. I don't know why that dead fool insisted we place those horse dung runes inside. Cause more damn harm than good." Orthjolf hissed as a frozen spire almost pierced his torso.

Vingalmo seethed back, "Magic handled by masters and not fools, like you and your lackeys, is more powerful than that glorified dull twig you carry."

Orthjolf reached near his waist to draw his so called twig and maybe sheath the blade into a certain Altmer.

"Both of you stop your bickering and pay attention." Valerica ordered and rose hastily from her seat.

The Bosmer, on her feet, gripped the cage's bar tightly despite the cracking lightning still surging through the metal. She stared heatedly at Serana with lips curled back in a blood-thinning snarl. Her form, although lithe and light, screamed animosity and rage at every undead soul in the room.

Since when did wood elves have fangs?

"…My dear husband, what compelled you to have a werewolf brought to this court?" Valerica questioned as she finally noticed the pungent aroma coming off the Bosmer since the cloth was removed.

"My dear wife, be rest assured, a werewolf is more powerful and intuitive than our death hounds. It will make an adequate thrall for Serana." Harkon replied and lovingly patted his wife's hand to make her calmly sit back down.

Serana stared at the wood elf.

Deep jade eyes clouded by wild wrath and fury bit into the woman's undead soul. They were sharp, focused and relentless as they stalked the vampires in the orange candlelight. With orbs locked on to each other, Serana moved across the cage's width. The Bosmer followed and never blinked.

Instead, the captive reached out and swiped at Serana, exciting more murmurs from the court. Serana gracefully stepped only 3 inches out the attack's range before sending a disapproving frown at her father. Harkon narrowed his eyes. And she rolled hers. _Power takes precedence…_ She could hear the phrase being said in her Father's voice mentally.

"Remove her from the cage." Serana ordered reluctantly. "And hold her tightly."

The two gargoyles quickly unlatched the cage door, pulling it up and open. The Bosmer hissed, baring her fangs at one muscular stone arm that reached in. She swatted it harshly away from her body until the other gargoyle slid its arm through the bars behind her and pushed the elf forward into its partner. The demonic brute grabbed the woman's arms tightly into the air, hoisting her above the ground then moved toward Serana.

Each heavy step from the monster caused a ragged breath from the prisoner.

Standing parallel to each other, Serana appraised her soon-to-be new thrall from head to two now that she had a better glimpse._ Prettier than I thought._ She concluded. The elf truly carried her Bosmer blood strong as she could see the hidden agility within those thinly muscled arms. The noblewoman stood at least 2 inches taller than her captive. A slim pointed jaw and high cheek bones matched her predator-like gleam and fearless jade eyes.

Reaching out with pale fingers, the vampiress soothingly caressed her fellow night predator's brown chin. Startled by this almost… caring action, the Bosmer couldn't react in time to thwart Serana's true objective.

Serana purred gently, "Don't move."

Without hesitation, the vampiress cracked the prisoner's head to side, unsheathed her fangs behind luscious lips and bit into the exposed brown skin neck.

_This_ the Bosmer had time to react to.

An agonizing searing roar bellowed from the tiny wood elf's throat as she felt her life essence being stolen from her. The gargoyle grappled harder on to the howling woman while she twitched and convulsed in its arms.

Serana grimaced to keep herself from gagging, for the werewolf's blood generated a vile taste on her tongue worse than a bedridden Argonian's blood with ataxia. Once enough of the putrid red liquid had slid down her throat, she injected her enthralling venom into the prisoner.

The roar intensified.

Windows, candlesticks, plates, chairs and anything not sturdy rumbled and folded under the elf's echoing pain. Court members clamped their hands over their ears. Harkon nor Valerica winced the slightest.

"By the blood…" Vingalmo muttered. "Shut it up!" Orthjolf finished while drumming his fingers against his sword's hilt eagerly. The Altmer wondered how Serana could stand such noise while being so close to the source.

Feeling her eardrums were going to rupture, Serana unhinged her fangs from the wood elf's neck carefully then stepped back. The roar slowly began to die down into quivering breaths. Everyone watched the woman's body jolt and quake in the gargoyle's grip until she froze and fell limp with green eyes wide open. She looked… mesmerized. The gargoyle loosened its hold a bit.

"Good work, my daughter." Harkon praised contently. "Now command your thrall, so we may continue with your day."

"Werewolf, what is your name?" Serana asked.

The bitten woman blinked but did not answer.

"I asked, what is your name?" The vampiress tried again.

Again nothing. Serana casually walked toward her thrall and cupped her chin. _Did I take too much? No… that was just the right amount._ The wood elf stared back at her unfocused. Narrowing her eyebrows in confusion, she searched the jade eyes for any emotion or recognition of her surroundings.

Valerica felt a bad shiver dart up her spine. "Serana…?" She called her over. The young vampiress turned her head to look at her mother.

Wrong move.

Quick as a whip, the Bosmer lunged her neck forward.

Her sharp fangs missed Serana's ear by a sliver of an inch. The gargoyle tightened his restraint while Serana jumped backwards in shock. _Tricky little… Wait how is she still conscious?_ The court burst into murmurs once they realized the venom had failed to enthrall the prisoner. Harkon cleared his throat loudly to simmer them down. Valerica rushed over to her daughter, checking if she was hurt.

"Harkon, congratulations, you've brought an un-thrallable werewolf into our castle." Valerica stated in deadpan and comforted Serana. Her words stirred the court again.

The vampire lord grit his teeth as ideas quickly raced in and out. He then glanced at one of the panting death hounds. _If they could be trained, why couldn't this whelp as well?_

Harkon commanded, "Orthjolf." The Nordic vampire bowed.

"I want you to work night _and day_ to break this beast. I want it more loyal to Serana than you are to me. If it resists, starve it. If it threatens, beat it. If it bites, kill it." The last phrase made the captive kick fruitlessly against the gargoyle now struggling to keep her still.

"Yes, m'lord. Stalf take it to the kitchen and keep it away from the thralls. Don't want to waste good blood on this pitiful bitch." Orthjolf ordered his Nordic underling.

Begrudged, Stalf motioned the gargoyles to take the werewolf down a side corridor along with her cage. Rargal Thrallmaster followed to make sure the idiot didn't mess up. Serana's eyes followed the beast until she left her sight. _I can't control her…_ For some reason that thought elated her more than it should have. The wheels began to grease in her head.

Harkon clapped his hands. "So, let us continue on with the festivities."

* * *

Nearing the crack of dawn, Serana carefully closed her wooden room door and silently made her way down the stairs towards the kitchen. Kegs and flasks of blood littered the culinary area with a recent victim on the slaughter table. His blood was being drained steadily to preserve the richness and flavor.

The vampiric noble didn't bat an eyelash as she crossed the threshold and took a sharp left from where the cattle were kept. Near the hearth fire, she found where Rargal had placed the cage.

_At least it's warm…_ Serana thought to herself and wondered if the emaciated elf wasn't frozen solid from the castle's northern location.

She approached the cage from the front and was greeted by the wood elf's back. The prisoner didn't bother to turn around, only taking a deep breath of the air. She knew who stood behind her.

_Serana, don't screw this up. Don't screw this up._

"You know, if you don't comply, you'll be killed." Serana stated.

No answer.

"I didn't ask for you to be brought here." Serana informed.

No response.

She pursued a conversation harder. "Still mad I bit you?"

Dead silence.

"Maybe Vingalmo was right. Maybe you are too dimwitted to comprehend speech. So far, you seem to have the vocabulary of a boiling pot and a sabre cat." Serana took a step back in case the elf tried to take another swipe at her.

The prisoner turned her head slightly and simply glared sharply at the undead noble with one visible green eye beneath a wave of dark red hair.

_That managed something from her._

Serana smiled eagerly. "Now that I have your attention, I don't believe Vingalmo is right. You can speak. You just choose not to because you know words won't help your predicament and only action will."

"Why are you talking to me then if words won't help me?" The voice was low, cautious and raspy.

Serana tensed her shoulders upon hearing the little Bosmer reply back. The voice didn't hold any fear just carefulness. _Is she truly not afraid or a great actor?_ Thinking quickly if she wanted this conversation to continue, Serana grabbed a water-filled flagon for the cattle cells and placed it right next to the cage.

The prisoner turned fully around and eyed the clear drink.

"I'm talking to you because I want to know you better since your stay here will be long. Very, very long. Now, drink." Serana explained and pushed the pitcher so close to the wood elf it clanked against the metal bars.

The wood elf continued to glare at her.

Serana rolled her eyes. "I know you were watching me fetch it. You saw that I didn't add anything in there, and for your information, we don't poison the cattle to keep them docile; it ruins the blood. Now drink."

Still not fully convinced, but not stupid enough to deny any form of sustenance to quench her horrid growing thirst, the wood elf grabbed the flask through the bars and downed the liquid in one mighty gulp. She licked her lips voraciously for any remaining droplets then sat the flagon down outside the cage with a hard clank.

Serana picked up the metal pitcher and shook it, surprised at the powerful liquid craving before her. "If you want more, just ask. I'm Serana by the way." She introduced herself.

"I know that, you leech. You're only trying to make me speak more." The voice was still low and cautious but smoother at the least.

"Is it working?" The vampire chuckled to her captive's ire. "You're stuck in the kitchen of the Volkihar Court in the high northern reaches of Skyrim and fortunately not on the menu. What else can you do but converse a little?" Serana joked, hoping to appeal to the Bosmer's sense of humor.

In two seconds, Serana found herself pulled forward by a surprisingly strong skinny brown arm. With her face forced against the metal, her eyes stared heatedly into the threatening jade across the silver-steel divider. The Bosmer tightly clenched Serana's cloak as hot furious breathes blew into the vampiress's eyes.

"I am a werewolf. I can rip your beating heart out. I can savor the stolen blood pumping through your veins as it slips down my throat. I can mangle your body so badly your parents wouldn't recognize the pieces. I can't devour your soul, Molag Bal did that already, but I can damn well be sure your last moments on Nirn are the worst you've felt in centuries. And yes, I'm still mad. " She snarled into Serana's face.

A deep, tight and heated quiet blanketed the kitchen. Not even the moaning and groaning of the thralls in the other room could be heard. Confident in her words, the elf slowly began to release her grip on Serana's cloak.

The vampiress reached into the cage and seized the front of prisoner's baggy weathered shirt.

She pulled the elf forward into the bars, so mere inches truly separated them. Burning eyes bore into the elf and shinned with frustration. Serana could feel her fangs jerking forward to sink themselves into the defiant prisoner and siphon the insolence out of her.

"And I'm your only hope in this castle. I can have you dispatched with gargoyles tearing you limb from limb. I can have you drowned in the Sea of Ghosts. I can turn you over to my mother whom I'm quite sure would be thrilled to have a werewolf test subject for her potions and spells. Or perhaps my father could have some use for you in his torture room, but I believe not even Hircine could stomach the impossible horrors he'd do to you." Serana retorted heatedly and released the wood elf with a thrust.

The prisoner jumped immediately back and stared at Serana with wide. Heavy breaths hastily exited her brown lips as they slowly curled into another scowl. Her body hunched over and coiled like a snake ready to strike. Her jade eyes were wide with tension and fury at the vampiress on the other side.

She cursed herself for her poor choice in words quickly, "Wait, wait. That didn't come out right. I meant-" Her plea was cut short by the Bosmer's continued hostility. By the blood, the hairs on the prisoner's neck were standing up and not coming back down anytime soon.

Serana released an exasperated sigh and took a step back from the cage.

_Great, we're back on stone one… good going, Serana._

Seeing her small bit of progress crumble into nothing, Serana turned her back to the elf and trudged out of the kitchen. The jade eyes followed her out and remained fixated on the doorway incase she came back.

_I'm your only hope in this castle…_ The words echoed in the Bosmer's head.

She scoffed at them then sat her head down to rest on the cold cage floor.


	3. Allies and Enemies

The Gift

[ Disclaimer: I do not own TESV ]

Chapter 3 – Allies and Enemies

* * *

"I've made many friends throughout the years, but the ones I cherish most make me forget the victory cries of my enemies and remember the laughter of their company."

-Braeygr Windseeker, A Breeze of Memories

* * *

The little Bosmer awoke to the ear-blistering shriek of a new victim for lunch. _Nordic female… probably no older than eighteen summers._ If her ears didn't fail her, she could still hear the heartbeat slowly… steadily… end.

Blinking the sleep out of her eyes, she stretched her body as much as she could in the cage's small confines. There was some privilege from being stashed in the kitchen. If anyone wanted to mess with her, they would have to first power through the distracting stench of blood and traverse passed Rargal. The Nord didn't like court members snacking between designated hours apparently.

Smacking her tongue to diffuse some morning breath, the wood elf pondered to herself, "Great Y'ffre, what time is it?"

"Sundown, bitch." A snarky voice called out from the corridor.

Said bitch snapped her neck to the newcomer while conjuring a deep snarl in her throat. Familiar fangs flashed out in warning to the shadowed figure as she readied her body for assault.

The voice stepped out of the darkness, revealing a Nordic frame. "Oh put those baby teeth away; I've seen better weapons on a rabbit." The prisoner continued displaying her displeasure from his presence. "Very well then, today is your first day of training, and it would be a travesty if you were late apparently."

_Stalf. Was he the Altmer's lackey or the other Nord's stooge? All these damn bloodsuckers look the same from a distance. _She rubbed her temple trying to remember until she felt her surroundings move without her permission. Stalf was pushing the cage out the kitchen and towards the main dining hall.

"I'm glad Lord Harkon didn't send me to capture you, seeing that Orthjolf is missing a fang. But then again, you probably just tricked the dusty old sod into a tr- Hello, master Orthjolf!" Stalf stopped his belittling little tune once he noticed the dusty old sod was standing at the courtyard's gate instead of inside the garden like he presumed.

_If looks could kill…_ "Stalf, put this silver collar on the filthy elf while we're outside." With gloved hands to avoid burns, he threw the heavy neck restraint at his underling, barreling it into the poor fellow Nord's chest. The Bosmer could hear the air squeak painfully out of him.

In a choked voice he managed out, "Yes, master, but aren't Lady Valerica and Lady Serana out there attending the plants?"

"Yes and Lord Harkon instructed us to use the courtyard for training despite their presence. Now unless you wish for me to report your defiance…"

Whatever color Stalf had drained from his face in an instant. He hurriedly threw the collar and connected chain on top of the cage then continued pushing it outside into the nipping cold.

Frigid air rushed into the Bosmer's face, initiating a sneeze and slight chatter in the teeth. Stalf and Orthjolf merely scoffed at her fragility. _Pfft, undead iceblocks. If I could just transform…_ She eyed the silver bars wearily. _They'd press into my skin and burn my flesh clean off._

The fainting light from the setting sun cast a burning glow on the tended circular garden. Raised patios sat on the corners connected by stairs while lush grass accented the stone pathways. A rush of scents hit the wood elf's sensitive nose. _Elsweyr orchids, Valenwood lilies… are those Cyrodiil black roses?_ Her head swiveled around like a hunting owl as she took in the various colors and beaming vegetation. _So much vibrancy for such dower parasites… Good taste I'll admit._

"What is that mongrel doing here, Orthjolf?" Valerica called out from a nearby patio chair.

Serana sat across from her with a glass of well preserved alto wine and small smirk. _Oh you just love to see me in a cage don't you, little leech._ The Bosmer turned her back on her owner.

Orthjolf and Stalf bowed respectfully and placed a hand over their dead hearts. "Lord Harkon has ordered us to train the beast in the garden, m'lady." The older Nord answered back, hoping he wouldn't be caught in one of their arguments over this.

Valerica narrowed her eyes. "Of course, he would view my work as a play arena while he pours over his sun fairytales. Send yourselves and that beast to Fura's forge room. Plenty of space there, and the mongrel could _accidently_ catch itself on fire."

_Accidently my ears… When I break out of here, third person on my list_. The elf mentally tallied the amount of firewood she'd need to burn every single immortal body in the blasted castle.

Not liking where this was heading towards, Serana spoke up. "Mother, let them train her here. If she learns the grounds, you could gain another assistant for your alchemy or at the least a test subject."

_Never mind, fourth person on my list. Little leech just went up in priority. Congratulations. _The temptation to gnaw through the metal bars was becoming more and more enticing to the elf by the second.

Serana pressed onwards, "Besides, if I help while she's here, wouldn't her training precede a lot faster, and she'll be out of your garden quicker." Lady Valerica raised an eyebrow in thought before nodding her head in agreement.

"Fine then, Serana will assist you in housebreaking that animal. Be warned, if you two so much as bend a sprout…"

She snapped her fingers. Four gargoyle brutes broke from their slumber and screeched loudly into the growing night sky.

Orthjolf and Stalf made mental notes to stay on the stone path winding through the courtyard. They pushed the cage into the garden's center where the sundial should be. It was currently being remodeled, and in its place was a circular stone platform. Serana followed suit, casually unsheathing and sheathing her new Elven dagger. This year's name day gifts hadn't been so fruitless.

Orthjolf cleared his dusty throat. "Now, Lady Serana, we need to make sure it understands who is in charge. Stalf! I told you to put that collar on." He seethed at the lackey.

His underling bowed his head many times in apology then reached into the cage with the collar and chain in hand. The elf scooted away into a corner. _You're not putting that horrible silver brace on me._ She bit Stalf's hand countless times and reveled when the bumbling idiot flinched or cursed in pain. With her focus on Stalf, she didn't notice Serana silently come from behind. Cold pale hands rested on her shoulder while moist lips rested near her pointed left ear.

In a rich tone, smoother than the inside of a velvet glove, the vampiress whispered, "Calm down, you'll be alright. Nothing will harm you~" The hands began to massage her shoulders slowly.

The Bosmer's head steadily titled back with eyes fighting to stay open. _By the Gods, not this again…_

The sharp clank of metal locking broke the elf's mesmerized stupor. She shot up from her corner and banged her head against the cage's ceiling with a thud. _Oh that's smarts._ Rubbing her noggin, she noticed the collar was no longer in Stalf's hands but around her brown little neck. It was heavy, smelled old and began to chafe.

Orthjolf pulled a whip from his belt. "Good work, Lady Serana. Now take my whip and lead it out."

Serana shook her head. "I don't think that will be necessary. She seems susceptible to charming at close range, or she just likes me."

The wood elf stopped clawing at the collar for a moment to send a heated glare Serana's way. "Keep dreaming, little leech. Now open this cage, so I can gouge your eyes." She kicked on the metal bars.

"Bitch, watch your tongue. Milady, this whip was dabbed in wolfsbane and should be used quite liberally I might add." Orthjolf offered once more.

"I'm not my father; I don't require fear to garner respect from my peons. Release her." The noblewoman kept her gaze stern and unwavering on the pair.

After a few seconds of hesitation, Stalf reluctantly slid the lock off the cage door and pushed the metal bars up. They slid so painfully slow for the elf inside she contemplated helping the fool set her free. Once there was just enough space, she slid under the creaking silver and sprinted pass Serana.

Her bones ached with joy. Her feet kissed the earth with each step, taking in every tremor and surface. Her lungs filled with the salty cold air. Almost forgetting she had an audience, the Bosmer stopped her dash. A slick cackle slithered from her brown throat.

"Not sure if you bloodsuckers are overconfident or demented, but do you think this silly little collar can hold me back? C'mon you can do better than that." She taunted. Stalf brandished his broadsword. _That's a worse glorified stick than Orthjolf's._

Serana answered the challenge. "You can't transform with it on, and you know you'll need your full strength to even leave this courtyard alive." She glanced to her mother whom was still sitting on the patio with her gargoyles ready.

"Good point I'll admit, though, Orthjolf never told you why he's missing fang, did he?" Serana raised a thin eyebrow in confusion."Oh no? Then it will be my pleasure Lady Leech to show you." The little elf bowed mockingly. Her jade eyes shined with ferocity when she lifted her head. Serana tensed her shoulders, Orthjolf readied his poisoned whip and Stalf desired to be anywhere but there, for a sudden chill ran up his spine.

Smoke.

Ebony thick smoke…

It radiated from not her entire body like they expected but just the arms. It cradled and slithered along her thin limbs, leaving growing pitch-black splotches. Each mark engulfed all traces of skin while the bones underneath could be heard bending and lengthening. The wood elf growled lowly in minor pain, feeling her tendons reconstruct and ligaments shift. Reaching their maximum size, the black covered arms burst into new flesh and dark red fur.

She clenched her claws and felt each new muscle contract beautifully. Her smiled couldn't be wider.

"By Y'ffre I missed this…" She blew out a relieved and content sigh. "I sucker punched the sod's tooth out with this arm when he thought he had me pinned to a tree. Biggest shock probably in his eternal life." The Bosmer rolled her shoulder casually but took great care to not touch the collar with her furred flesh. Orthjolf lowered his head slightly in embarrassment.

Serana stood in awe and curiosity. "You… can partially transform parts of your body? Why? How?" The questions poured from her lips without end. She stepped forward for a closer examination.

"Just can. Always have been able to and always wi- Don't pull the fur!" The werewolf snapped when Serana ran her cold pale hands along her arm, testing if what she saw was real. _Why isn't she running away or putting a dagger to my neck?_ "I could snap you like a twig right now."

"You won't. Like I said earlier, you're not stupid, and I think you want to keep your head. She isn't biting or tearing me apart; you two can leave." Serana ordered.

Not wanting to deal with either lady or beast any longer, Stalf and Orthjolf bowed and left the courtyard. _Two less annoyances… Now how to get rid of the old maid? _The Bosmer glanced at Lady Valerica still observing them from a distance.

The cool pair of hands from her arms cupped her face now. Her vision shifted to golden burning eyes. "Focus on me, not on them or my mother. You want to live. I want you to live. We have at least one thing in common, and I hope that one thing doesn't change. Now what is your name?" Serana asked again earnestly.

The Bosmer averted her jade eyes. Anywhere else but the vampire's face she tried to center her orbs on.

_Don't look at me with such feigned innocence, leech._ Her heart beat harder in her chest.

_Why do you look so careful like I will break in your hands? _Her lips felt a bit drier than what the cold air should have caused.

_I am not feeble. _Her knees shook slightly.

_I am not a child's toy. I am- _

Her voice caught in her throat when Serana's gaze softened even more. The dark hue of her lips contrasted lusciously with her light unblemished skin. With such proximity and a spiteful rush of wind, the wood elf could smell the light scent of blue Valenwood orchids on her shining dark ebony hair…

Her voice was rushed and high. "F-Felsilin…"

"Felsilin?" Serana released her face. The spell was broken. "Very feminine for someone who knocked a master vampire's fang out."

The spite for the vampires surfaced once more in the wood elf's heart. Names are power in this day and age. "FELL-SUH-LEEN. I've had enough fools butcher the L-I-N. It's said like lean. Better yet, Fel. Just Fel."

Serana smiled widely and tested out the new name on her pink tongue."Alright, Fel, that's enough training for today then."

Felsilin crossed her arms and slowly let them return to normal. Black smoke blanketed her lycan limbs and left elven replacements. _This some kind of trick? No, no there has to be more to it. _"I'm not complaining, but you didn't do anything." Confusion and uncertainty soaked her voice.

The vampiress tapped the metal prison and readied the door. "If we compromise instead of slamming each other's heads into metal, I won't have to, now please get back in the cage." She brandished a small key to remove the collar once the Bosmer was inside.

Wearily, Fel willingly stepped into her cage- _Wait_ _willingly?!_ The door snapped close before she could realize her foolish mistake. Her elven hands grabbed the bars and shook them in vain. A deep groan full of anguish roared from her throat. _That was the trick… Little leech! I'll-! I'll-!_

She threw her arms up in exasperation.

"I'm overcome by the feeling fighting you is pointless." She announced and let her hands fall limp.

Smirking, Serana played with her new elven dagger a bit more before replying. "No! Really?" Her tone dripped with sarcasm. "I'm serious about keeping you alive, though. Just follow my lead and you'll come to like living here. Truce?"

With reluctance, "Truce. But no more of that damn charming magic." Felsilin replied.

Serana held her hand out. "Deal." Instinct screamed at Fel to bite the extended appendage while logic beckoned for a more civilized approach. Her decision came down to one important goal.

_I want to live… _

The wood elf shook it firmly through her silver prison; this time not sending the young vampiress headfirst into the bars.

…_but this isn't living._

* * *

A/N: Thank you for the reviews so far. I'm trying to keep myself one chapter ahead before posting a new one. Criticism/opinions/story ideas are welcome.


	4. Fireside Chat

The Gift

[ Disclaimer: I do not own TESV ]

Chapter 4 – Fireside Chat

* * *

"I remember, when I first proposed to my wife, she sat me down with eight bottles of mead then told me to ask again after they were all empty. Apparently, you're a lot more honest with your trousers at your ankles and a tankard as your hat."

-Braeygr Windseeker, A Breeze of Memories

* * *

"Is it too late to ask for proper food and lodging under this truce, Lady Leech?" Felsilin asked while poking sheepishly at the meager half-slice of potato bread sitting in a wooden bowl.

With a loose frown, Serana poured her business partner a tankard of water and pushed it through the cage bars. "I can't move you anywhere else without someone noticing, but I'll tell Rargal to prepare meat instead." The vampiress looked up to see the wood elf drool slightly at the prospect of protein. _I hope she likes it raw…_ _Rargal hasn't touched a cooking pot in a decade._

Felsilin released a relieved sigh and finished her pitiful dinner in two bites. So, there were some downsides in her housing. A horrid breeze sometimes blew through when Rargal brought in new cattle, and the roof seemed to drip in every spot she rested her head. The firepit next to her cage wasn't always lit during the coldest hours, making Serana berate the thrall master every other day. Her green eyes followed the thankfully currently burning embers while she finished her drink.

"How long are you going to keep calling me that?" Serana questioned with folded arms.

Tracing their conversation backwards, Felsilin tilted her head in thought and set her cup down on the cold cage metal.

"Oh, Lady Leech? It's quite catchy if you ask me." The wide smirk on Fel's face only tightened Serana's frown. "Lady Leech, Oh Lady Leech~! The mortals fear her from Eastmarch to the Reach~!" She sang off key loudly.

"And her fleabag companion who mysteriously washed up dead on the beach.~" Serana finished the tune.

"Hey!"

"What? Fleabag? It's quite catchy if you ask me." She mimicked.

The Bosmer held in a growl and pushed her bowl and mug away for a nearby thrall to clean up. The Volkihar was fortunately only populated by Serana, two cleaning thralls and herself, for Rargal was out doing to some work for Vingalmo and dinner bell hadn't rung yet. Sitting across from Serana in her cage, Felsilin finally noticed something about the vampiress.

Best be blunt. "You've been staring at me from time to time ever since we met, why?" Her question seemed to surprise the other woman as she shifted uncomfortably in her seat. _Because you're not trying to flatter me or gain favor with my father._ Which is what she wanted to say but doubted the elf understood how the vampire court functioned.

"Because I've never met a wood elf. Your kind is very rare to find this far north especially since you'd have to pass through Cyrodiil from Valenwood." She half-lied.

"_Bosmer."_ Felsilin corrected with a growl and ran hand through her wiry long locks to calm herself down. Aggression wasn't going to work with this one. The instinct to snap and bite at the vampiress showed in her eyes though. "Let me guess, you have a dozen questions for your new pet?" Felsilin flashed a wide toothy smile.

"A pet? I don't see a pet. I do have a few for an elf with an ego larger than herself." The elf huffed at the comment. "Is it true you can speak to animals?"

"No, we use a nature magic to influence beasts to calm or help us temporarily. It doesn't always work depending on how belligerent or skittish the creature is… Are you writing this down?"

Serana simply held up the small journal and quill in her hand. An inkwell dwelled behind a leg of her wooden chair. "My mother says you should never forget what people tell you about them. It's sometimes more honest than what they do." She quoted and continued writing down the elf's response. _Their words can also incriminate them later if they're a turncoat or plotting mutiny. _

"You referenced a god by the name of Y'frre? Is that the wo- _Bosmer_ name for Kyne?"

"Again, no. Y'frre is the forest god of nature and song. He gave elves, beasts and man their shape to stop their transition between each but blessed some of his children the ability to still shift at will. This does not include lycanthropy; that's Hircine's domain."

Hearing the feather's tip scratch up and down the paper once more, Felsilin flopped backwards in her cage, laying her back against the firm floor. She stared at the stone ceiling and took more interest at the coin-sized frostbite spider making a web.

"Are my questions boring you?" Serana asked while dipping her quill into the inkwell. The prisoner released an exasperated sigh. _I'll take that as a yes._ Her golden eyes looked disdainfully at the cage lock.

She quickly searched the kitchen for any other presences or Rargal coming back from his errand with Vingalmo. She could only hear the casual drip of water hitting the frigid floor. With the area clear, Serana reached into her trouser pocket and pulled out a small key.

_I hope I'm not making a mistake… _Steeling her nerves, the vampiress stood up and slid the key into the lock.

Felsilin immediately rose to her feet and stared at Serana. She checked her neck for the infuriating silver collar incase the leech had slipped it on her at some point. Nope, it was bare.

"You really like taking risks, don't you?" Felsilin asked with skepticism.

"No, I don't like watching miserable people."

"Yet you have thralls?"

"None of them are personally mine, or would like this court to descend upon an unknowing hamlet and drain it dry? Our cattle method is less damaging for both parties." Serana explained and hissed when realized she had the key upside down.

Finally, the lock fell to the ground with a thud at Serana's feet, and she pulled the door open. Felsilin just stared at her coldly for a moment until her gaze fell on to the vampiress's outstretched pale hand. There wasn't any lightning magic crackling in the woman's other palm. _C'mon, I don't bite. Much. _ She let the welcoming gesture linger in the air longer.

"I can't let you wander the castle, but you can at least stretch your legs out in here."

Cautiously, the wood elf grabbed the Nord's open palm and was pulled out of her silver confinement gently. Serana watched as the same mirth from her time in the garden burst in Felsilin's eyes. Not as much space or beauty to be found in the dark, cold almost lifeless kitchen of the Volkihar Court, the Bosmer explored.

Serana observed.

_Wood elves, children of the forest and shadows of the trees…_ The vampiress remembered from an old dusty explorer's journal published into a book series. _Despite these titles, they're curious archers, friendly and a bit naïve._ Felsilin picked up an empty wooden bucket and beat its underside like it was a drum. Serana chuckled lightly and felt conflicted on whether to help or let her figure out it wasn't an instrument.

"I saw this thing in Cyrodiil while passing through a settlement. Some farmers told me it was hat… but it's too deep and blocks the sight. There's no skin to form a drum… We're not allowed to cut the fauna in Valenwood due to Y'frre's blessing, so woodwork isn't common." The wood elf rattled on about her experience with the container.

_Gifted with the grace of the deer and keen senses of the wolf,_

Serana stifled a laugh when Felsilin dropped the bucket on to the stone by accident with a ringing clatter, causing her pointed ears to stiffen. Her cheeks tinged with a light pink. The wood elf positioned the container carefully back down and focused on other parts of the room.

…_wood elves are known to be dexterous in difficult terrain. But apparently can't navigate a kitchen._

She grimaced when her companion tripped over a spigot near the blood casks and banged her elbow into a table. Serana heard a string of elven curses slip through Felsilin's lips. _Child-like definitely not…_

"I'm surprised you haven't asked me about my 'special' lycanthropy… _Serana_. I don't have to add 'Lady' part right?" She asked while cradling her bruised elbow.

Hearing her real name genuinely from the Bosmer's mouth startled her for a second. _We're making progress! Don't mess this up, Serana._

She recollected herself. "Just Serana is fine unless you prefer sounding like Vingalmo." She giggled at the visible disgust on Felsilin's sharp face.

"If I wanted a stick up my ass to make me feel taller, I would have been born an Altmer."

"Or wanted to drone on and on about your lineage and family accomplishments." Serana continued.

"Or desire to judge everything below me, and if there's anything above me? Well that simply doesn't exist!"

For the first time, both of their laughter rang through the same air. It was a wondrous contrast in the desolate, icy, and dank kitchen where mortals were drained of their blood. Only a place of pure agony and death could be the home of two Daedric curse bearers mingling together in almost blissful harmony. Almost. Serana was the first to reel in her pulsing diaphragm.

"If I ask about your Daedric dealings in detail, you'll ask about mine, and I'd rather not get into that." The vampiress answered back seriously, hoping the curious nature wouldn't persist into her past.

Felsilin shrugged her shoulders and hopped onto the center table. The previous dinner guest, whom was having his blood drained when she arrived, was gone. His life essence was mixed and stored in one of the many casks that littered the kitchen. She crossed her legs under her and tapped the side of her chin in thought.

"You don't get out much, do you?"

"What makes you say that?"

Felsilin spoke as if she was reading off an itinerary, "From the moment you wake up, I can hear you work with your mother in the gardens. When it's time for breakfast, you speak briefly with your father. As the evening goes on, you spend more time with your mother doing something with herbs because you always smell like nightshade and white caps when you come to visit me. You spend the rest of the night either here or with your mother."

"You can hear all of that from down here?"

"I sometimes transform only my ears into my wolf ones, and Rargal purposely leaves the door open. I think he believes I'll freeze to death down here. Pfft, good luck with that."

Before continuing on with the conversation, Serana heard a light grumble emitting from Felsilin. It wasn't her mouth growling, but her stomach protesting its emptiness.

The wood elf turned away in slight embarrassment while Serana rummaged through a nearby cabinet. She tossed her hungry companion more potato bread which was quickly wolfed down like the first morsel._ Does she even chew?_ Serana briefly worried about her potentially reaction to meat. _Note: Make Rargal cut the meat into slices, so she doesn't choke. _

"The sun is a problem even though our strain of vampirism allows a better resistance than most." The vampiress explained.

Felsilin narrowed her eyes. "I'm talking about _you_. Not vampires in general. Orthjolf already proved the sun isn't that much of a barrier when he dragged me up here. Why haven't you traveled around? Normal mortals don't have keen enough senses to tell you're a vampire."

"I used to ride my horse along the beach at night, but… some incidents have been happening around the castle. Not only did someone manage to break into the garden before you came here, but death hounds, thralls and a few artifacts have gone missing. Odd sightings in the woods…" Serana paced back and forth in front of Fel, trying to explain her dilemma.

"So you're stuck here for your own protection?" She hit the nail right on the head.

Serana nodded at the conclusion. The wood elf jumped off her tabletop perch and stood directly in front of the immortal. Green bore into golden.

"I don't know how Nords or vampires feel about freedom, but to a Bosmer, 'if one cannot feel Y'frre's blessing on one's feet or hear the ancient song of the god's forest birds and rivers, one is not living. One's freedom to roam is their life.' Easy as that."

Serana shook her head. "Life is not that simple, Fel."

Felsilin crossed her arms. "What's stopping you from making it that simple? Your parents? How old are you? Eighteen summers at the least?"

The vampiress rolled her eyes. "A lady doesn't disclose her age."

"And a lady doesn't take elves as pets!" The wood elf shouted back.

"You're not my pet!" White needle-like fangs unsheathed themselves.

"Then what am I?!" A pair of lycan incisors challenged the fangs with a curled snarl.

"I was hoping you'd be my friend!"

…

…

…

Serana's heart fell in her chest when the elf took a few steps back and didn't dare look her in the eyes, yet mere seconds ago, Fel gazed at her so defiantly and tall. _That was too soon… I shouldn't have said anything. We're going back to step one all ov-_

In a hushed tone, the vampiress heard words she could barely believe.

"You haven't exactly tried to kill me or drained me dry. I'm not saying 'yes' but not saying 'no' either. Not the most dangerous friendships I've considered…"

"What's more dangerous than being friend's with a vampire?"

The wood elf smirked. "You ever tried convincing a troll to not eat your pet deer, and somehow explain to said troll you're not on the menu either?"

The awkwardness from just moments ago gave away to curiosity and openness. "No, but this sounds like the beginning of an interesting story or a very bad tavern joke."

The wood elf threw her head back with a curt laugh then sat down on the center table once more and made herself comfortable. "This is the beginning to an interesting _and_ long story. Grab a chair and pour me another tankard of water, please, my throat is killing me."

Serana did what she was asked and soon found her sides hurting for the first time in years from this little elf's whimsical tale.

* * *

The night was soon giving away to the dawn when Harkon arose from his study. The light bags under his eyes proved he had continued his search through archives from the previous morning until now. Remembering he had told Vingalmo persuade his elven contacts to aid in his pursuit of sun legends the previous evening, the nightlord found himself heading towards his high elf advisor's quarters.

With a turn down the right corridor near the stairwell, he came face to face with his lovely wife.

"Harkon."

"Valerica."

Their greetings could freeze a fire atronach. His sharp eyes took in the parcels his wife was carrying. In her hands seemed to be soul gem shards, bone meal and void salts. Probably experimenting with the weeds from her garden he assumed.

"Have you seen Serana? Oh, of course not, why am I even asking you, Harkon. Your eyes I blinded by scrolls and sun myths." Valerica chided coldly.

Harkon retorted back with a grin. "No, I haven't, Valerica. Maybe she grew tired of playing with weeds all day."

Before his wife could reply with even deeper resentment for her husband, their ears were startled by a loud echoing sound. They turned their heads trying to pinpoint the noise until their gazes fell at the same time to the kitchen.

Harkon rested a hand on his sword and led his wife to the disturbance.

They arrived at the door and pushed it wide open. What greeted them was an odd sight. They're poised and refined daughter was hunched over with her mouth covered by a hand, shaking from head to toe with merriment. Across from her, the little wood elf was weaving a tale while doing impressions of various creatures from the story. The amount of joy radiating from the pair blinded them from the parental figures spying on them.

Distraught at his daughter's behavior, Harkon began to unsheathe his sword until a cool pale hand rested firmly on his chest. He looked down at his wife whom was shaking her head. She forcefully sheathed his sword for him and exited out the room.

For a moment, Harkon stood there watching the duo cackle and chortle into the morning light while they remained oblivious to his presence. Finally, he left them to their foolishness and joined his wife in bed.

* * *

A\N: This chapter took a longer time to write partially due to school, and myself not really sure of the direction I wanted to go in. I needed to move this plot along but wasn't sure what to revolve their actions around.


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